


Take a Break

by Umbreeunix



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Biting, Choking, Demencia and 505 are only mentioned, Imagination, Implied Body Horror, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Painplay, Paperhat - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbreeunix/pseuds/Umbreeunix
Summary: It’s one of the rare nights you have off, when the hellspawn you call your boss doesn’t just consider, but actually INDULGES your body’s natural need for a decent amount of rest outside the 40 minute meal breaks between you’re near 20 hour work shift. (which you often spend sleeping more than eating) You want to say he does this out of the genuine kindness of his unbeating heart, but even Black Hat knows that you’re at your worst when you’re tired, stressed, and overworked. So when the opportunity to hole yourself in your room for a week arises in the form of a pink slip of paper, you don’t hesitate to snatch it from his grasp and run from the room, hollering at the top of your lungs, a free man....





	Take a Break

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this late in the night and I don't really know why, I was super tired and having to reread it to edit it was almost painful. (I'm surprised I can even be coherent when I'm that tired) So have some Flug getting a well deserved break and jerking off during it. It's short but I hope y'all enjoy it.

It’s one of the rare nights you have off, when the hellspawn you call your boss doesn’t just consider, but actually INDULGES your body’s natural need for a decent amount of rest outside the 40 minute meal breaks between you’re near 20 hour work shift. (which you often spend sleeping more than eating) You want to say he does this out of the genuine kindness of his unbeating heart, but even Black Hat knows that you’re at your worst when you’re tired, stressed, and overworked. So when the opportunity to hole yourself in your room for a week arises in the form of a pink slip of paper, you don’t hesitate to snatch it from his grasp and run from the room, hollering at the top of your lungs, a free man.... 

Okay, you don’t do THAT. But the moment you manage to sidle out the incredibly well furnished office, your voice stumbling as you mumble words of gratitude out the door, you’re leaping in the air. Your paper bag mask crinkles against the small, post it note sized excuse for a holiday as you smush it against your face, darting to your bedroom for the best week of your life.

It’s only by the third day though, that you realize there isn’t much for a guy like you to do. You don’t have any friends outside this house; as much as you love 505, he isn’t much of a…. conversationalist, and you could honestly do without Dementia. Her constant meddling and gung-ho, crass, and borderline scandalous nature just rubs against you like sandpaper. Slobbery, wholly uncomfortable sandpaper.  _ Eugh! _

It’s not just your lack of friends though. Being holed up in that lab for so long makes integration with the outside world… more than a little intimidating, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’d rather not deal with pea brained sycophants that scuttle in those grimy streets. You’d happily sit through a tortuous movie night with Black Hat crew then consider taking a single step outdoors, at least without reason. (you’ve been forced on more than a few grocery runs in your time working for Black Hat Inc.)

So that leaves you alone, in your room, the lights dimmed and your desks and shelves littered with dozens upon dozens of model planes. You’d just finished five more during those first two glorious days, but there’s only so much sticky glue fingers a guy can take before it starts to take a toll on his psyche. Maybe there was something better you could do to utilize your time. Maybe, now that you’re alone, you can finally…

Your cheeks burn, a hot wash of shame as your fingers twitch instinctively towards the edge of the mattress. Before you can even think better of it, you’re bowed over the bed, plucking an incredibly indecent magazine and some lube from the shadowy depths of discarded clothes and other random junk. You begin to worry your bottom lip under that paper bag mask, depositing your loot across the covers with shaking hands. Your legs cross and your palms are planted on your knees as you consider whether or not you ACTUALLY want to do this. You’re inclined to check the halls, to scan for possible intruders or passersbys, but you know the odds of that are low, because Dementia is off tormenting 505 at this time of day, and Black Hat would no doubt be swamped with a heavy load of work, now that Flug was out of the picture.

You gulp around the hard lump in your throat, goggles gleaming as your chin dips down so you can gawk at the magazine cover. Of course it’s some weird Villain themed thing, you just so happened to have… ‘borrowed’ this issue from Black Hat after all, but you can’t help but suck in a mouthful of air as the scantily clad woman on the cover eats you up with her sultry gaze. And being as pent up as you are, it’s enough to send a throb straight to your crotch.

Welp. There’s really no going back at this point, even if you wanted to.

Delicately, you pick up the catalogue, rearranging your pillows so there’s a cushion between your back and the hard wooden frame of your bed. You set the lube on the nightstand, for now, content to just flip through pages as your fly comes undone and your palm barely grazes against your burgeoning erection. Your breathing hiccups as your mind spitfires self inserted scenarios with these vulgar villains, wondering how it’d feel to have firm hands pressing down on your throat, or bouncing bosoms suffocating you through your paper bag. Honestly, you have no room to talk about vulgar, the scenes you envision are downright heinous.

But that all comes to a screeching halt when your hand unconsciously flips to the next page. Air caught in your lungs as the smooth paper falls open to reveal this issue's centerfold.

_ ‘Black Hat: Master of the Obscene’ _

Your jaw drops, but you couldn’t help it! Because, strewn across your lap, was the most obscene photo you’ve ever seen of your boss. His body prone across crimson silk sheets, legs hardly spread, with one knee bent towards the camera. He is most certainly nude, if the wide expanse of charcoal skin had anything to say about it, save for a black robe barely clinging to his shoulders. One of the sleeves had slipped down his arm, though, his bare torso propped up by his elbows so he could gaze directly into the camera. And his eyes, the jolt it sends through your nerves is almost painful. Even when poised so openly to the camera, his eyes never lose that air of command, that haughty regality that engulfs every room he’s in. You never know who isn’t in charge. He’s GRACING you with this image of himself, with his prone body open for ravishing, and you ought to be grateful to him… At least that’s what you choose to interpret, an interpretation that has your body broiling in seconds, arm whipping over to the bottle of lube you’d abandoned on the nightstand while the other tears your pants down to your knees.

Forget holding back anymore, forget slow build up. Your cock is rock hard and DEMANDING attention, and you’re more than happy to oblige. You squeeze a more than generous amount of the clear, slippery ooze on your palm, more than you really need but you can’t be bothered now, and grab your fervently cocked…. cock by the base. A hiss slips between gritted teeth, nerves set ablaze as you frantically fuck your fist, fingers squelching around the twitching shaft as your eyes remain fastened to the image of Black Hat covering the magazine page. 

_ What would he do to you? _ you wonder, and your brain gleefully concocts a scenario before you can stop yourself. One where your boss has your head pinned to the mattress, sharp claws prickling your skin as he squeezes his fingers around your neck. Your eyes roll back, your cock weeping as you imagine him pounding from behind, with a coil of tendrils enveloping every inch of you between your thighs as he thoroughly shatters you. You envision those teeth, so big and sharp, wolfishly digging into your shoulder with hardly any hindrance, and no heed to the frail human he’d be marring with such a deliciously painful act. You sob, and barely recognize that the voice you’d given yourself wasn’t just silent thoughts. You’ve been keening for Black Hat between breathless moans and heavy gasps, but you can’t find the capacity to care when you’re so close. So close to getting there, your hand furiously pumping your cock while your fingers tease the tense ring of muscle just inches below, your bed creaking with every uncontrolled hip thrust. Just a little more…

“Cum, cum for me.”

Those words are so clear and lucid, so  _ Black Hat _ , that all you can manage is a pathetic cry before your body seizes with your sudden orgasm. So powerful that, by the time you’re back to your senses, you’re seeing stars… and a pair of darkly gloved hands gently stroking your thighs.

Wait, but you wear yellow gloves, gloves that you’d tossed in the corner of the room two days ago... those aren’t your hands....

You immediately snap to attention when you realize you aren’t alone in this room, your back no longer nestled against your soft pillowed, but against the chilled, snazzily clad torso of the one and only Black Hat, the one you’d just been envisioning not moments ago. You squeal like a panicked pig out to slaughter, trying to cover up the scene of your crime, but you’d left your trousers hanging around your knees and your efforts are quickly halted as you trip and fall flat on your face. At least it was on the mattress, you can cherish these last moments of comfort as you wait for the verbal thrashing you’re no doubt about to receive...

But it doesn't come…? Instead, you hear Black Hat chuckling darkly behind you, scooping you up in his arms till your shoulder blades rest squarely on his chest again, and his chin settles on your shoulder. It sends a thrill down your spine, skin prickling with fear.

“Relax. Normally, I’d be lashing you for such indecent behaviour, but seeing the source of such vulgarity,” he pauses to pick up the magazine, and you think you feel his chest rumble more than you hear it, “I’m willing to make an exception.”

A single clawed finger grazes the tip of your softened cock, and it jolts with interest as the beastly being behind you teases the sticky, cum stained slit. You inhale, sharp and shuddering, hairs rising as this situation goes from terrifying to exhilarating. Maybe the rest of the week wouldn’t be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed it, I dunno. I'm very tired.


End file.
